Can't Help
by honesthannah
Summary: A girl who doesn't believe in true love. A boy who could care less about the idea of love. Add an undeniable connection and they might just teach each other a little something about love. After all, you just can't help who you fall in love with. Based loosely on the song "Can't Help" by Parachute.
1. Chapter 1

**Clearly, I have no sense of self preservation and I also clearly do not have my priorities straight. Rather than studying for my organic chemistry and analytical chemistry exams and writing a paper, here I am, posting yet another story. What is wrong with me?**

* * *

Chapter One:

Reputations are funny little things. They seemingly have minds of their own. Reputations attach themselves to you without a warning, without asking you if you even want them. They stick to you and refuse to let go, following you around for the rest of your life. Before you even know it, you're given a reputation; one that might not really be who you are.

The bad boy.

If you asked Austin Moon if that was how he viewed himself, he would simply look at you and laugh.

That reputation was so cliche and pathetic; it honestly made him cringe every time he heard it.

He hadn't wanted a reputation when he started high school, especially not that one of all the available possibilities. It was just given to him. In fact, the bad boy reputation was associated with him even before he walked through the doors of Marino High on his first day.

He supposed that was what he got for associating himself with the troublemakers of the high school during his final year of middle school. He met them at the mall one day and they instantly took him under their wing. He had been waiting for his two best friends. They were planning to see the new Zaliens movie that had just come out. But, his friends were running late. He was sitting with himself in the food court, when the leader of the group approached him, asking if he wanted to hang out with them. Seeing as his friends weren't there, Austin agreed. The rest was history.

By the time he began his freshman year, he had been branded one of them.

Rather than fighting the reputation, he accepted it. The way he reasoned was people already saw him as a trouble maker. There wasn't much he could do to change their minds. So, rather than wasting his time trying to prove everyone wrong, he decided to embrace his reputation to the fullest.

Personally, though, he didn't think he was such a nuisance or a delinquent. He didn't think he was that bad. Sure, he had issues. But, who didn't?

If you ask anyone else, though, he was the dictionary definition of bad.

To the high school principal, he was a face seen every day in the elderly man's office, swarmed with numerous complaints from teachers and students alike. He was like a persistent headache to the principal; always coming back, often times worse than the last time. To his teachers, he was a smart student, who refused to apply himself. To his parents, he was a disappointment and a thorn in their side. They all expected more from him.

To the Marino High student body, he was adored. To the female population specifically, he was a heartthrob and the guy to swoon over. To the male population, he was an idol.

To his boss at the local mechanic shop, he was gifted with a wrench; an asset to business.

To his two ex-best friends, he was a shallow shell of his old self.

To his new friends, he was their leader.

To Austin himself?

Well, that was something he was still trying to discover.

He pulled into the nearly packed parking lot of Marino High. Finding an empty spot towards the back of the lot, he reverse-parked with one quick maneuver. Checking the time on his dashboard, he smiled. Twenty minutes left of first period.

He was late as usual, just the way he liked it.

Killing the engine, he stepped out of his car. Walking around to the passenger seat, he opened the door and grabbed his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder. He fixed the collar of his leather jacket and ran his fingers through his hair, looking at his appearance in his car mirror. The black leather jacket, white t-shirt, faded ripped jeans and white sneakers only solidified his image. Smiling ruefully, he messed his hair up a little bit.

Throwing his hand over his shoulder, he locked his car, and started walking towards the entrance of the high school.

Just as he expected, the hallways were empty of students. Taking his time, he strolled down the halls, eventually appearing at the door of his first period class – Calculus with Mr. Phillips.

He walked into the room, instantly several pairs of eyes falling on him. The girls in the classroom immediately started whispering, some of them even sending him winks. He returned the favor. His friends, who were sitting towards the back of their room, nodded their heads in his direction. He smiled, nodding his head back at them.

He started making his way to his seat in the back, but he was stopped by a throat clearing towards the front of the classroom. Turning around, he was met with the unhappy eyes of his Calculus teacher.

"What a pleasure of you to join us this morning, Mr. Moon." The elderly man said while crossing his arms over his chest. The teacher wore an unamused expression upon his face.

"I try." The blonde shrugged, smiling crookedly. Some girls in the front of the classroom giggled. He looked at them, winking. They only giggled louder.

"This is your fifth lateness this month, Mr. Moon." Mr. Phillips said, walking over to his desk. It was only the second week of November.

Austin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He knew what that meant. He was kind of hoping to avoid being sent to the Principal's office so early in the day. But, that was what he got for strolling in late.

He should've just stayed in his car until the start of second period, he thought to himself ruefully.

Mr. Phillips pulled out a blue slip from a drawer in his desk. Jotting something down on the paper quickly, he handed it to the blonde. "Go to Principal Matthews office."

"Oh, and here I was, hoping I wouldn't get to see him, yet. He and I are hitting a rough patch this week, you know. His wife isn't so happy with how much time he's been spending with me lately." The blonde joked, as the students in the room instantly bursting into laughter. He surveyed them with an amused smirk.

Mr. Phillips only scowled, folding his arms over his chest. "Very humorous, Mr. Moon."

Austin smiled again, biting back a laugh of his own. He loved riling the old teacher up so early in the morning.

His teacher continued to look at him expectantly, finding no amusement in the blonde's antics. He seldom did.

"Alright, alright." Austin placated with raised hands. "I'll be on my way." He turned around, heading towards the door of the classroom. As he opened it, he couldn't help but send a few more winks at the female population, before walking out of the room.

* * *

She really hated being the new girl. She hated it more than anything in the world. The wary stares of other students as she walked past them down the hallway, the not-so-quiet whispering about her, the struggle to squeeze into already well-established friend groups. It was not an experience she would wish upon her worst enemy.

No one would feel happy about being uprooted from a place they called home, taken away from all of their friends, and moved to some complete other part of the country. Unfortunately, for her, she had been through that experience almost too many times to count or even remember. Moving had become a second nature to her. Almost every year, she would find herself in another city, another state; all far away from the place she truly called home – Pennsylvania.

The constant moving was because of her father's successful chain of music stores. First established in Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, Sonic Boom became for lack of a better term, a booming success. Investors were soon lining up at their doorstep, offering to endorse further stores across the country. That was how, at the tender age of eight, she found herself packing up and moving to San Francisco, California.

Since then, she had lived in various parts of Texas, Colorado, Michigan, Washington, Virginia, and lastly, New York City. Now, her father had uprooted her to Florida.

Each time they moved, her father promised that it would be the last time, that the new house would be her new home. This time, he said he truly meant it. It was her senior year of high school and he promised that they would stay put in Miami, Florida until at least after she graduated. If he needed to move, he would do so and she could choose to stay in Florida, if that was where she decided to attend college.

However, the promise to stay in Miami for at least a year did little to quell her annoyance at having to start fresh again. It was November, meaning the school year was well underway. If they had at least moved to Miami in September, she wouldn't have been the only new face in the high school.

In her father's defense, he couldn't open the new store location until recently. She remembered him explaining why when she asked; he mentioned something about building licenses and other paperwork that had not been approved until then.

Sighing, she climbed out of her bed at the beckoning call of her alarm clock. Turning it off with a swift motion of her arm, she headed towards the door of her bedroom. Before leaving her room, she put her phone on charge by her desk.

Making her way down the stairs of the mansion her father had bought for their time in Miami, she eventually found her way to the spacious kitchen. She preferred a modest sized house or a quiet, quaint little home, over the large mansion she was currently living in. However, just like the decision to move, the choice of living quarters was not up to her. Her father took care of everything.

She wasn't surprised to find a note on the island of the kitchen, scribbled in her father's scrawny handwriting. He had left the house early for a meeting with the developers and investors. He was planning to open the store by the end of the next week.

Walking to the huge stainless steel refrigerator, she took out a gallon of milk and headed over to the coffee pot. At least her father left her coffee; he knew how much she loved the caffeinated beverage.

Finding her favorite mug, a red-painted "Keep Calm and Carry On" mug, in one of the cupboards, she went back to the coffee pot. It was a going away present from one of her old friends. She poured herself a cup of coffee and added some milk. Then, she made herself a bowl of cereal.

She made her way back up to her room to get ready after finishing the cereal and two cups of coffee.

After brushing her teeth and washing her hair in the bathroom adjoined to her room, she walked over to her closet. Looking through the clothes on the hangers, she decided on something simple. She wasn't one obsessed with wardrobe, but as the new girl, she also didn't want to bring any more attention to herself - either by wearing something too flashy or something too casual.

She chose a tight red V-neck shirt and a pair of faded jeans. She decided to wear a pair of black heeled boots. Satisfied with her appearance in the mirror, she turned to her desk and started gathering her book bag. It was a brown Michael Kors satchel her father had bought her as an apology gift for once again making her move to another state with him.

She had already packed a thin binder with unused loose leaf paper the night before. Her phone had finished charging by the time she finished breakfast. Unplugging the charger and taking it out of the wall socket, she shoved her phone in her pocket. Lastly, she picked up her favorite pair of sunglasses and placed them on the top of her head. Feeling ready, she threw the messenger bag over her shoulder and headed downstairs.

Walking to the front door, she grabbed the keys to her car from the hook by the hall closet. Opening the door, she noticed the weather was slightly chilly. Turning to the hallway closet, she took out a light gray zip-up hoodie. She slipped it on.

Locking the front door behind her, she headed to her car, which was parked in front of the house. The car was a moving present from her father, since they couldn't take her old car with them.

Climbing into the driver's seat, she threw her messenger back onto the passenger seat and started the engine, before buckling her seatbelt. She moved her sunglasses from the top of her head to her nose.

Soon, she was on her way to Marino High.

* * *

 **At this point, I really have no direction with this story. I only have two chapters written and ready to post. Four years ago I regretfully deleted the entire old version I had of this story, so now I have nothing to go off of, meaning I'm stuck with trying to remember what I wrote and rewriting it. Oh, well. *shrugs***

 **I do hope you like this chapter and the idea of this story.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

She arrives at the high school building a quarter before nine. Her father and her had gone to the school the morning before and spoken to the secretary in charge of admissions. The nice elderly woman had told her to come in around nine the next morning to pick up her schedule and locker assignment.

She isn't surprised at how packed the parking lot is. She also isn't surprised at the size of the high school. It is smaller than she expected, having previously gone to a very large one in the heart of New York City. Miami was a big city, she expected the high schools to be big and have large student bodies. Marino High stood in front of her, welcoming her.

The modest-sized building had an outdoor layout. It felt more like a college campus than a high school, with several buildings disconnected from each other. Trees and bushes lined the stairs that led to the main entrance, which was a wide courtyard. She didn't mind being outdoors between classes; it would be nice to experience the fresh air on a daily basis. Though, she did prefer schools with larger student bodies; it was easier to disappear and not be noticed.

Finding a parking spot and pulling in, she climbs out of the car and heads up the steps towards the courtyard. She steps inside the main building of the high school. Her last new high school, she thinks ruefully.

The brunette is relieved to find that the halls are empty. At least she won't be labeled as the new girl as soon as she steps foot into the school. Since she had been inside the building the day before, she has no difficulty finding the main office. She does not want to have the cliche experience of being the "lost, new girl" and having someone, probably a boy, most likely quite attractive, help her find the main office.

Stepping inside, she stops in the middle of the doorway, at the sight of a blonde boy sitting in one of the chairs leading up to a door that said "Principal's Office." The boy is drumming on the legs of his chair with a pen, completely oblivious to her presence. He dons a leather jacket and ripped jeans.

The quintessential high school bad boy. She rolls her eyes. It really seemed like every high school had one.

Shrugging to herself, Ally walks over to the long desk on the right of her. There sits the secretary she had met with yesterday.

"Good morning Ally." The woman says with a warm smile, standing up from her seat.

"Good morning Miss Higgins." The brunette replies, smiling in return. From the corner of her eye, she sees the blonde boy finally looking in her direction. One eyebrow is raised, observing her with an amused smirk. She scoffs and turns her attention back to the secretary.

"Please, call me Josephine." The elderly woman says, with a smile."

"Alright, Josephine." Ally appeases her.

"Are you excited to start your first day?" Josephine asks her, while walking over to a cabinet and opening the second drawer.

"As excited as I can be." She answers cheerfully, feeling very much the exact opposite. She honestly dreaded this part - entering a new high school - more than actually moving. She was used to learning the layout of her and her father's new house.

Learning the layout of high school and all of its hierarchies? That was still a work in progress. It seemed that every new school she went to had a different dynamic, even though most of the cliques were the same. She felt like a fish out of water every time.

"I know it must be hard moving schools in the middle of the school year, but I assure you, you will like it here in Marino." Miss Higgins says, turning around with a smile, and coming back to the desk with a manila folder in her hands.

"I'll keep that in mind." Ally answers, shifting the messenger bag on her shoulder. She can still feel the blonde eyeing her. Through her periphery, she can see his eyes transfixed on her, his lips still curled into that obnoxious smirk. She bites the urge to roll her eyes, instead once again focusing her attention towards the friendly secretary.

The woman opens the folder, flipping through the documents inside. "Well, here is your schedule and your locker assignment. The combination is written in the corner." Miss Higgins hands her two sheets of paper, before closing the folder. "If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to stop by."

"Thank you." She responds, smiling politely, while taking the papers. "Have a nice day."

"You too, dear."

She starts walking out of the office, but is stopped in her footsteps by the sound of a voice behind her.

"Stop right there, Mr. Moon."

Turning around, she sees that the blonde boy had gotten up from his chair and seemed to be making his way to her. Miss Higgins had caught him mid step.

"I-." The blonde is soundly cut off by a sharp look from the secretary.

"Mr. Moon, if you are waiting to see Principal Matthews, I suggest you sit down and wait patiently. He will be done with his phone call shortly."

The blonde, whose last name Ally now knows to be Moon, looks from the secretary, to her, rolling his eyes, before turning on his heels and heading back to his seat.

Biting back a small chuckle, she turns around and walks out of the office.

* * *

"Mr. Moon." Principal Matthews motions for him to take a seat, not even lifting his head from his paperwork.

Sighing, the blonde unceremoniously slides into one of the empty leather seats; he chooses the one closer to the door. His thoughts are still locked onto the quirky brunette from the main office.

Principal Matthews continues to be occupied with his work for several more minutes. Austin rolls his eyes and slides down in the leather chair, to the point that he is almost on the floor.

"There is no need for the theatrics, Austin." The elderly man finally looks up at him.

"I'm bored." He answers, dragging out the last syllable. He drums his fingers on the armrest of the chair.

"You're bored. What a shame." The principal looks anything but amused, as he folds his arms over his chest.

"Can't you just give me detention for the day and get this over with?" The blonde says, placing his elbow on the armrest and leaning his chin in his palm.

"I could do that, but then we would be repeating this conversation tomorrow."

"So?" Austin asks, leaning back in his chair.

"Don't you ever get tired of this routine, Austin?" Principal Matthews questions, looking directly at him. "Constantly being sent here, given detention, and doing the same exact thing that got you detention the very next day?"

"No?"

Principal Matthews gives him a pointed look. "You're a bright kid, Austin. What I don't understand is why you continue to put on this persona. This act."

"It's not an act." The blonde answers coolly, taking slight offense to the old man's words, though he knows them to be true.

The elderly man continues to meet his eyes, studying him. Eventually he lets out an exasperated sigh and sits back in his chair. "Fine. Detention for the next two weeks." He says, with a dismal wave of his hand.

"See, that wasn't so hard." Austin grins, standing up from his seat. "Same time, tomorrow?" He asks, with a teasing smile as he starts to walk out of the room. He makes it to the center of the main office.

"Mr. Moon." Principal Matthews' voice stops him in his tracks. Rolling his eyes, the blonde turns around to face the man, who is now standing in the doorway of his office.

"Yes?" He asks, not bothering to hide his impatience.

"Any more incidences like this and I will have no choice but to suspend you. The school has a policy about excessive tardiness."

Austin feels his heart drop the bottom of the chest. Sure, getting detention at least once a week is fine. Being suspended though, that was something else.

Although almost everyone in his life expects him to amount to nothing, he, himself, is at least holding on to the hope that he can go to college and get some degree. Having a suspension on his record would not bode well for that. Quickly recovering himself, he eyes the principal with an expression of disinterest. "So?"

"Think about your future, Austin." Principal Matthews replies. "Do you really want to get suspended and have that on your permanent record?" The older man doesn't give him a chance to answer, turning on his heels and walking back into his office. He closes the door behind him.

Austin sighs, running his fingers through his hair, before continuing on his way. The secretary looks at him with narrow eyes, watching him as he heads out of the principal's office and towards the entrance of the main office.

* * *

Ally manages to find her locker with no problem, reaching it just as the bell rings signaling the end of first period. Her locker was in a different part of the main building, near the outdoors cafeteria. Within seconds, the hallway around her is crowded with students.

She looks at the locker combination the secretary gave her and opens the locker. She gets to work placing her belongings into the tiny space.

A deep feeling of anxiety fills her bones as students approach their lockers on either side of her. She eyes them warily, wondering if they notice her. If they do, they pay her no mind, opening the rusty metal doors of their own lockers and taking out the books they need for their next class.

Within seconds, she is alone again. She sighs, closing her locker and leaning her head against the cool metal door. Suddenly, the warm Miami breeze overwhelms her. Oh, how she really hates being the new girl.

Taking one more deep breath, she straightens up and readjusts the strap of her bag. Time for her first class. She looks down at the second paper given to her by Miss Higgins, her schedule. She finds the room number of her first class, mentally visualizing the map of the school grounds that she made the day before.

Feeling more or less certain of the direction of her classroom, she turns and faces the hallway. "You can do this." Ally says to herself, gathering up her last ounce of confidence. She leaves the safehaven of her locker and wades through the dispersing crowd of students heading to their classes.

She reaches the doorway of her classroom, looking at the tiled floor and bracing herself to walk in.

"I saw you at the main office, I haven't seen you around here before. You must be new."

She looks up to see the same blonde boy from the main office, leaning against a nearby locker. It takes everything in her not to roll her eyes. Of course he would find her.

He walks up to her, lips curling into a charming smile. "I'm Austin. Nice to meet you." He says, using one hand to lean against the door to her classroom. His other hand, he holds out to her.

"I'm not interested." She smiles sweetly, pushing him out of her way and opening the door. She rolls her eyes as she takes a step inside the room, looking back at the blonde and feeling amused at the bewildered look on his face.

She hates people like him the most. Those that walk around like they are all high and mighty. He was undoubtedly a player, seeing her as an easy target since he knew that she was new.

The classroom is full of noise, students talking with their friends, while awaiting the arrival of the teacher. Glancing quickly around the room, she finds an empty seat in the back and starts to head towards it.

"Hey there, beautiful." She is stopped in her tracks, by a brown-haired boy.

"Hi." She says, not bothering to hide the edge in her voice. What is it with boys and hitting on new girls?

"I'm Elliott." The boy says, extending his hand to her.

"You're also in my way." She replies coolly.

He chuckles, moving out of the aisle, but still blocking her path. "I like a girl who is fiesty."

"That's enough." A sharp voice comes from behind the boy. Ally tilts her head to see who is speaking. It is a short, raven-haired girl. The girl looks at her, smiling sympathetically. "Don't mind Elliott, he's a moron."

"Hey." Mentioned boy exclaims.

Ally rolls her eyes, walking past him and sitting down in the empty seat, which happens to be right next to the raven-haired girl.

"Sorry about him." The girl says as she takes her seat.

"It's fine." The brunette nods and smiles. "Thanks for the help, though."

"Anytime." The girl replies. "I don't know why, but its like everytime guys see a new girl, they see her as new meat and instantly jump at her."

She nods, grinning. "Tell me about it. They're like raging hormone machines."

"I know right?!" The girl laughs. "I'm Trish."

The brunette smiles. "Ally. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

Their conversation is cut short as the classroom door opens and in walks a middle-aged man, holding a textbook in one hand. "Good morning class." The man says, setting the book down on the desk. "We'll begin today by discussing the assigned reading."

"You can look off of my book." Trish says, opening the textbook to the correct page and sliding it over to the edge of her desk.

"Thanks." Ally smiles.

* * *

A little over a half hour later, the bell rings.

"Do you know where you're heading next?" Trish asks, closing her book and standing up from her desk.

"Let me see." Ally closes her binder. She glances down at the schedule in her hands and finds the teacher and room number for her next class. "Physics with Mr. Coluccio." As she finishes reading off of the paper, she glances back up at the girl.

Trish smiles. "Great. I'm in that class. I can take you there."

"Thanks." Ally says, smiling gratefully. She turns to close her locker door and readjusts the bag on her shoulder.

"Love the bag by the way."

"Thanks." She grins, following the tiny girl's lead down the hallway.

"So, where are you from?" Trish asks once she falls into step with her.

Ally chuckles drily. "Well, I just moved from New York, but I'm originally from Pennsylvania."

"You've moved around a lot, huh?"

"Is it that obvious?" She asks.

Trish nods, smiling sympathetically at her. She places a hand on the brunette's shoulder. "That must not have been a fun childhood."

"Tell me about it." She says, laughing sadly. "I've basically been moving every year of my life, ever since I was 8."

"Really?" The raven-haired girl says, surprise written all over her face.

Ally nods.

"That sucks." Trish frowns. "But, I hope you like Marino. I hope you'll stay, even for a little while. I can see us being really good friends."

The brunette smiles. She was used to making "friends" that she would lose contact with as soon as she moved. It was really hard making a long-distance friendship work. Her old friends from Pennsylvania had made new friends and they had eventually grown apart. They developed different interests and passions; they had nothing to connect over anymore.

"Me too." She says, with a smile. Deep inside, she actually means it.

* * *

 **Like I said in the last chapter, I really have no set idea for this story. I have the overall plot in mind, but most of the details are still missing. So far, I've just been writing whatever comes to mind, while trying to remember how the original version went. I posted about six or seven of the original chapters of the story, but I ended up deleting it because I felt like I had too much different plot lines and I didn't think I would be able to connect all of them. Looking back now, though, I think I could've made it work. Oh well, the past's the past.**

 **That being said, thank you for reading. I hope you like this chapter.**

 **Until next time, write on my lovelies**

 **~ honesthannh**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

He replays the scene from earlier as he leans against his locker, mentally watching the figure of the brunette disappear behind the classroom door. He lets out a laugh and shakes his head in amusement. Her sass was adorable. For some unknown reason, he hadn't been able to get her out of his head all day.

She was different, he thought to himself. Those words were a cliche, but then again, so was he. The brunette has this fire in her eyes, she had this passion. The way she turned him down without even a pause. It intrigued him. _She_ intrigued him, he mused. He felt his lips curl into a smile.

"Earth to Moon." The feeling of someone shoving him gently snaps him out of his thoughts.

Scowling, he turns to look at the distraction. It's his friend Dallas, standing by his locker, grinning. "What?" He asks.

"What's on your mind?" The boy replies, his grin turning into a teasing smirk.

Austin rolls his eyes, playfully shoving him. "Nothing important."

"Uh-huh." Another voice comes from his other side. The blond turns to see one of his other friends, Trent, leaning against a locker. "Clearly nothing important if you're daydreaming."

"Shut up." The blond says, pushing and elbowing both of the other boys as they share a hi-five.

"How was Matthews?" Dallas asks, changing the topic.

Austin shrugs, leaning his back against his locker. "Same old, same old. Just bitching about my behavior and my grades and how I need to 'apply myself'." He shakes his head, pretending to laugh. His friends don't need to know the full details of his conversation with the principal. He wasn't supposed to care about his own grades, anyway. It was part of his reputation. He smiles ruefully.

"He's been hounding you a lot lately." Dallas says, using his arm to lean against the locker on the right side of the blond.

"I can't help it if he feels such an urge to help send me on the right path." The blond replies, his eyes following the silhouette of a leggy brunette walking down the hall. She stops several feet to the left of him, as if feeling his eyes on her. She turns around and smiles. He winks. She giggles and continues walking. Austin is about to go after her, but is stopped in his tracks.

"Hey, you're working at the shop today, right?" Trent asks.

"Yeah." The blond nods, turning to face him, hiding his slight anger in being interrupted from snagging a date for the weekend. "Why?"

"My car's been acting up. I'm pretty sure it's something with the engine. Think you can take a look at it?"

"Sure." Austin says. "I can look at it now, if you want."

"That would be great." The dark-skinned boy claps his shoulder. "Thanks man."

He nods in return, his eyes turning back to the retreating brunette. For some reason, he no longer feels the urge to catch up with her and ask her out. Another brunette floods his mind. He shakes the picture away, turning to see Elliot, another of his so-called friends, approach.

"Hey guys." The boy says, as he walks up to them.

"'Sup." The blond nods in his direction. Trent and Dallas follow suit.

"You guys want to head out to catch a bite?" He asks.

"We were actually heading to the parking lot. I want Austin to look at my car." Trent says.

"Perks of having a friend whose a mechanic." Elliott says with a teasing smile.

"Shut up." Austin rolls his eyes, pushing him playfully. "Don't come to me next time you have engine trouble. Go to another mechanic shop and pay a fortune for an oil change." He grins.

Elliott takes a step back, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Point taken."

The four of them head down the hallway towards the entrance of the high school. As they walk, the blond stays slightly behind, his mind still on the brunette. He looks up momentarily, when he feels himself bump against someone. His eyes catch those of aforementioned brunette. He smiles, what a coincidence.

"So, we meet again." He says, smirking.

"Unfortunately." The girl replies, smiling sweetly, though her voice is ice.

Austin laughs. "That's cute."

"Ugh." She rolls her eyes. "You know, a person with manners would just apologize for not watching where they were going, but clearly you don't have any. I shouldn't be surprised."

"I _would_ apologize," he says, stepping closer to her. She instinctively steps away from him, her back hitting a locker. " _If_ , I was sorry." He steps even closer, his lips only inches away from hers. He turns his head in a sly move, reaching her ear instead. "But, I'm not." He whispers in her ear, before straightening himself up and walking away. He turns his head to look back at her and winks. She rolls her eyes again and he smirks.

He catches up to his friends at the entrance and follows Trent to his car. The boy unlocks it and lifts up the hood. Austin dumps his backpack on the ground and heads over to look at the engine. He glances up to look at Trent, who is standing next to him. Elliott and Dallas stand back a few feet, leaning against someone else's car.

His eyes scan the engine, passing over all the wires and connections. On a quick glance, he doesn't find or see anything out of place or misconnected. "What did you say was wrong? Is your transmission acting up?"

"I think so." The dark-skinned boy nods. "I keep hearing these weird, grinding noises."

The blond nods his head, turning back to examine the engine, his mind going through possible problems and solutions. Weird, grinding noises. That could mean a lot of issues. Transmission trouble, a worn-out clutch, a damaged steering column.

"When do you hear the noises? When you're pressing the gas or the brake, or both?" If the noise only happens when breaking, that could mean quite a hefty repair.

Trent shakes his head. "No. I think the noise is coming from the transmission."

Austin nods. That signals most likely transmission trouble. Still a problem, but better than having to repair the brake pads and the clutch pad. "What about shifting gears? Any problems?"

"Yeah."

"Hmmm." He says, nodding his head. Definitely transmission problems. "I don't see anything wrong with the engine or the transmission, right now. But, I'll probably need to take a closer look." He closes the hood, turning to face Trent. "Come by the shop. From what I see, you might just need to change the transmission filter or the transmission fluid, but I need a better look to be certain.."

Trent nods. "Alright, thanks man."

"We still have time go get lunch at the cafeteria. Lunch is only half way over." Dallas says, walking up to the two of them. Elliot follows behind him.

"Sure." Trent says and Austin nods his agreement.

The four of them head back towards the school.

* * *

The brunette scoffs, holding her textbook close to her chest as she watches the obnoxious blond saunter off with his friends. She shakes her head. The nerve of him to bump into her and act all smug about it. It took everything in her to keep her resolve and not slap him in the face. After all, she didn't want to bring any unwanted attention to herself.

Shaking her thoughts away from the irritating boy, she makes her way back to her locker.

"Hey Ally." A voice calls, just as she opens her locker door. Placing her Spanish book inside, she turns in the direction of the speaker. It's Trish, who is putting her own textbook in her own locker, which is several doors down from the brunette.

"Hey, Trish." She waves, closing her locker and walking up to the Latina.

"You have lunch now, right?"

"Yeah." She nods.

"Awesome. You should come sit next to me." Trish offers, taking out a textbook and closing her locker.

"Sure, thanks." The brunette smiles.

"So, how was your last class?" The raven-haired girl asks as they start heading towards the cafeteria.

"Not bad, or should I say _no malo_." She answers with a grin.

Trish rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. "How's your first day going so far?"

"Not bad." Ally nods. The day hadn't been bad so far, minus the encounters with the blond and the brown-haired boy in her first class. But, besides that, things were going pretty well. She liked all of her teachers so far and she had already made a friend, more or less. She was starting to believe that spending her senior year in Miami wouldn't be so bad, after all.

She also hadn't dragged any attention to herself so far, which was good. She didn't want to be the center of attention, either as the new girl or for some other reason. Moving so often made her like to blend in with the crowd, to be a wallflower. That way, it wouldn't be a big deal when her father moved them again. For that reason, she didn't really try to make any friends, just acquaintances. It was better that way; it hurt less to leave them then.

"Just wait until you meet Dez."

"Dez?"

Trish smiles. "He's my friend. He's special. You'll meet him soon. Right now, actually."

They walk the rest of the way to the cafeteria in silence. The cafeteria is located in a separate building, across the courtyard Ally passed on her way inside earlier that morning. Trish leads her out of one building, through the courtyard, inside the cafeteria, which is in its own building, and towards the line to buy food. The line moves swiftly and soon it is their turn to grab a tray.

"Just a fair warning, no one knows what exactly is in the meat." Trish warns her. "That's why they call it mystery meat."

Ally raises her eyebrow in surprise. "Is that safe?" She whispers, eyeing one of the lunch ladies warily as they move down the line.

"Probably not."

"So, what should I get?"

"Honestly, who knows what is any of the food." Ally looks at her with a horrified expression. Trish laughs. "The safest bet is just getting a salad." They pass by a cooler and Trish grabs a soda.

"Noted." The brunette says, taking a water bottle for herself.

A few moments later, both of them have gotten and paid for their lunches. The brunette having heeded the other girl's warning and taken a pre-packaged bowl of salad. She makes a mental note for herself to make and bring her own lunch from now on. Ally follows behind Trish, watching her weave her way around the tables with practiced ease, until stopping in front of one, which is solely occupied by a lanky redhead. The boy's nose is buried in the large camera in his head, as he seems to be recording the food on his table.

"Hey Dez." Trish says, taking a seat opposite of him. She sets her tray down.

"Hey Trish." The redhead says from behind the camera. He holds it up to record the Latina, who waves at the lens casually. He turns the camera to face Ally. After a second, he puts the camera down, eyeing the brunette with a bewildered look. "Hello."

"Hi." Ally says, waving hesitantly. Trish motions for her to sit down and she does, taking a seat next to the girl and across the redhead. She sets her tray down on the table.

"Dez, this is Ally. She's new. She just moved to Florida from California."

"New, you say?" The redhead has once again picked up his camera, pointing it at Ally. "Do you mind if I record you?" He peeks his head out from behind the camera. "You just gave me an idea for a new documentary. 'NEW: What It's Like to be The New Kid.'"

"Dez, put the camera down." Trish says, grabbing the camera and pushing it down and away from the brunette. "I'm sure Ally is stressed enough as is being new. She doesn't need you following her around with your stupid camera." She turns to face Ally. "Sorry about him, I should've warned you. Dez is an aspiring director. Keyword, aspiring." The redhead frowns at her word choice.

Ally laughs. "It's fine. I've met enough aspiring directors in California."

"Have you met any real directors?" Dez asks, resting his camera on the table.

"Yeah, actually. I have." The brunette nods. "They actually shot a movie in my dad's store in Los Angeles. It was pretty cool. I got to be an extra."

"That's so cool." Trish says, opening her soda and taking a sip.

"Do you know who shot it?" Dez asks, his eyes brightening.

Ally nods, racking her brain for the name of the director. "His name was … Spike Stevens." She nods her head. "Yeah, Spike Stevens."

"No way!" The redhead all but shrieks, reaching across the table to grab her collar. "You were in a Spike Stevens movie?! Which one was it? What was it about?"

"Dez," Trish says, grabbing his hands. "Let the poor girl go before you scare her."

"Fine." He says, pouting, but loosening his grip on the brunette. He sits back down.

"Spike Stevens' is Dez's favorite director of all time." The raven-haired girl explains.

"He's the reason I got interested in directing in the first place. He was the inspiration for my first movie. It was called "Claws: Dun, Dun, Dun.'" He waves his hands in the air for emphasis.

"You actually shot a movie?" Ally asks. "That's pretty cool." A lot of the aspiring directors she met in California had never picked up a camera in their lives. At least the redhead was working on his craft and honing his skills.

"Actually, we never got to shoot it." Trish says sadly. She and the redhead share a sad smile.

"Thanks to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named." Dez mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

The brunette opens her mouth to ask what they mean, when a flop of blond hair sits right next to her.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Trish says, tone biting. Ally looks at her quizzically. Did she and Dez know him?

"Trish, Dez." The blond says, nodding his head in both of their directions. His eyes then land back on the brunette, glistening brightly.

"Ally, this is-."

"Austin. I know." Ally cuts off the Latina. "I've unfortunately already met him. Twice." She scowls at the boy.

"Well, you know what they say, third time's the charm." He says, smiling that oh-so-obnoxious smile.

The brunette rolls her eyes. "What do you want?"

"What? I can't just stop by and say hi?"

"You? No. Anyone else? Yes." Trish says. Ally briefly glances back at her, seeing her glare at the blond. So, they definitely did know each other. Then again, as the school's notorious bad boy, she was sure almost everyone knew of the blond.

Austin chooses to ignore the Latina and looks back at the brunette. "I never got the chance to fully introduce myself earlier." He says, holding out a hand.

"Leave her alone, Austin." Dez says, glaring daggers at him.

"Ally's too smart to fall for your stupid crap." Trish adds.

"Why don't we let Ally decide, hmm?" Austin replies, his gaze shifting from the redhead and Latina back to the brunette. He smiles. "How would you like to go out with me tonight?"

"Um … how about no?" Ally says, smiling sweetly.

"If tonight doesn't work for you, then what about tomorrow?"

"Why would I subject myself to such torture?" The brunette replies. She cannot believe this boy. She basically just stepped foot into the school and he had already hit on her. She had rejected him, but clearly he hadn't gotten the message as here he was.

"Sweetheart, I'm offering you the chance to join the It Crowd of Marino and get away from these less populars." Austin says, literally looking down upon the Latina and the redhead.

"Well, thank you for the offer, but no." Ally says. She gives him a onceover. "I have a pretty good judge of character and i know just the kind of person you are."

The blond laughs. "That's cute. I like it when girls play hard to get."

"Then, I'm sure you'll really like this." She counters. The next thing she does surprises even herself. Her hand grabs Trish's soda and within seconds is dumping it over the blond's head.

She hears a collective gasp around her. Looking around, she realizes she has garnered quite an audience. The entire cafeteria has their eyes on her. Rather they have their eyes on the soda-drenched blond next to her. Her attention turns back to him as well.

He looks at her with bewilderment, strands of his drenched hair covering his eyes. His mouth hangs wide open, like his eyes.

Ally senses hundreds of pairs of eyes turn from staring at Austin to her. She feels her heart start racing, her vision blurring, at being watched by so many people. She didn't like being the center of attention; she was never one to deal well with having all eyes on her. Panicking, she grabs her bag and races out of the cafeteria. She runs towards the nearest safe haven she can find, which happens to be the girls' bathroom.

She runs to the last stall, closing the door behind her, before her knees give way and she collapses on the tiled floor. Her breathing quickens, as she seemingly cannot get enough oxygen to fill her lungs. _Breathe, Ally. Just breathe._ She reminds herself. She leans her head against the wall and closes her eyes, trying to slow her racing heart and breathing.

* * *

 **I actually had parts of this chapter written a while ago, I was just struggling with how to make the chapter longer and put all of the parts together. Sorry for the wait, though.**

 **I hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think! And, check out (if you want to) my other stories. I just posted a new story called "Shadow Moon" that I am rather excited for.**

 **~honesthannah**


End file.
